Young at Heart
by witchcastle
Summary: After the death of their respective spouses, Hermione and Draco stumble across each other, intent on staying quite neutral to one another, but surprised to find the sins of the past long gone. While the body may age, the heart still wants.
1. Prologue

**Young at Heart**

 **Prologue**

 _Loved always_

It had become a familiar path that she took any time the heartache struck her. She could never deny it, even on a night when the wind blew the trees and grass heavily, she would follow her heart, with her hair whipping around her face.

Tonight it was only just becoming dusk and the sun was just a thin line over the horizon of Catchpole, her home for countless years now. It was hard to remember when she'd ever lived anywhere else.

The wind blew her most of the way but she was still breathless when she reached her destination. It seemed stiller here like the wind dared not interfere with the souls that rested in a peace that would last forever.

It had been too soon.

The earth was cold beneath her barefoot, she'd forgotten, as she often did, to wear shoes as her grief carried her usual sensible head without rhyme or reason. Loss makes you lose your head, her mother had used to say that. I would rather lose my head than my heart, her father used to say that.

She wiped dust and debris from the tombstone and sunk onto her knees letting the sobbing take her as it usually did, here at least she would not seem so irrational, the mascara down her face, the hair in which way direction and the strong, ridiculous noise that came from her own body.

 _Ron Bilius Weasley_

 _Loving son, husband, father, brother and best friend_

 _Hero to the Wizarding World_

 _May he rest here_

 _Loved always_

His sister had done the headstone and the first time she'd seen it, she was sure that she would never stop crying. She felt a hand on her shoulder and couldn't help the knowing laugh that her children thought to call the one person that could take care of her while they are away at school.

"Hermione," Harry said, in his way.

He waited until the sobbing stopped then gently reached down and helped her up, he hugged her for awhile then encouraged her to come home, her feet seemed stuck in the ground so he picked her up. As he walked away and Hermione rested her chin on his shoulder she could see a lone figure further up where the more elaborate (and expensive) tombstones could be found. His robes were thick and heavy (and probably expensive) and he stood with his head slightly bent and a large bunch of lush roses in his hands. He glanced up at her briefly, his grey eyes soaking into her own. It was strange how they'd never quite been able to get rid of him, he'd always been in their lives. She had seen him a few times and she knew somehow that this would not be the last encounter.

Note: Please note I do not own anything. I've written this story twice now and felt it was time to post.


	2. The Burrow

**Chapter One**

 _The Burrow_

During the summer holidays, it was very easy to spend most of their time with Molly and Arthur at their home, the one with the richest and happiest memories that any of them ever had. At the Burrow, Hermione relaxed more than she did anywhere else as her in-laws did not let her lift a finger. In the early days after Ron's death, when she'd barely been able to get out of bed it had been Molly and Arthur, alongside Ginny and Harry, who had looked after her as her own parents were not really lucid enough first to understand what was wrong and to know who the hell she was.

They arrived as they always did, in a flurry of mess and confusion that Hermione had never approved of but learnt to accept with two young children, her children weren't quite that bad learning that they could earn their mother's approval with neatness and maturity (something Ron never really approved of, he wanted them to just go and be kids) so that's often what they did. Today, however, they'd left in a hurry and things had been thrown everywhere so that Rose had no socks but endless underwear and Hugo had socks but no underwear.

"That's ok, mum." He said as they unpacked in Ron's old room. 'I usually forget to change them anyway." He admitted honestly.

"That's disgusting, Hugo!" Rose said.

"Not as disgusting as your face." Hugo retorted hotly.

"Mum." Rose sighed.

"That's no way to talk to your sister, Hugo. Now both of your outside, Grandpa wants to play Quidditch with you."

They both cheered and ran from the room, Hermione had been glad that they had seemed to bounce back from their father's death, Harry had spoken to them about heaven and Hugo, at least, seemed Ok with the idea that his father was amongst the clouds, watching out for them from above. Rose had told her she'd have trouble sleeping but it wasn't from nightmares, rather she spent a lot of time thinking about all the fun they'd had and that they would no longer have, the kind of fun they only had with their father.

Hermione eventually found her way downstairs after configuring a few pairs of her son's socks to underwear. Tucking her wand away she found Molly had already boiled water and set aside biscuits for them and they sat and chatted with the kids before Molly changed the subject.

"Harry told me you were upset again a few nights before the children returned," Molly said in her motherly way, looking worried and upset.

Hermione sighed. "I wished he wouldn't tell you."

"Don't blame him, Ginny works it out of him and she tells me." Molly replied. "It's not that we mean to be busybodies it's just that we care, it has been some time and you still seem so…" Molly shrugged like she wasn't sure how to finish.

Hermione wasn't sure what to say, still, she was saved by the arrival of the Potters who were more disorganised than anyone but Ginny refused to let her help and told her to sit outside and read. Harry joined her at some point.

"Reading anything good?" He asked.

"Not really, I can't seem to read for enjoyment much anymore. Are you ok?"

"Fine, just worried about you." Harry replied.

"I know." Hermione said and squeezed his hands gently, they paused their conversation when Harry's kids dashed out and Harry jumped up to fasten all kinds of zips and buckles.

After a few moments silence, Harry spoke. "I meant to ask, is Draco Malfoy always there?"

Hermione nodded. "I mean, often, not always but quite a lot. Looking much more put together than me."

"Wearing shoes?" Harry teased, it was a joke between friends, no one else would dare tease her.

"Shut up, but yes and with roses and looking presentable, not disturbing the peace." Hermione shrugged.

"It's almost been three years since Astoria died, I guess he did love her if he's still going." Harry said and waved lazily at the kids.

"I suppose he did." Hermione replied though she found the idea of Draco Malfoy loving anyone strange, while he had always been a brat and never had any time for her maybe he had loved his family, his mother had certainly shown that she loved her son.

"Have you ever thought of talking to him?" Harry asked.

Hermione was taken aback. "Why on earth would I do that?" She asked.

Harry shrugged. "You have something in common now."

"I suppose, still I don't know why you think I would want to talk to him." Hermione replied.

Harry shrugged. "I don't know why I thought you would either, but I did."

They sat in silence after that until Molly called lunch.

Time at the Burrow always disappeared in its own little whirl and Hermione wanted the kids to have some time at home before they went back to school, after hugs and tears (from Molly) they went home through Hermione's least favourite method of travel, the fireplace.

The next morning Rose asked if they could visit their father and Hermione didn't dare say no, in fact, it was a rather healthy request. And Hermione was cheered to see her children skipping along the well-worn route.

"Oh no, Mum there is someone strange there!" Hugo said taking her hand to reassure her, Hermione had to smile, her son was sensitive in his own way, much like Ron had been. Still, he thought a stranger was someone who didn't have red hair. Or bright green eyes.

"It's alright, other people are allowed to visit Dad, Hugo." Hermione explained gently.

"Yes because it's a public place." Rose said looking exasperated at her brother.

"And because your dad had a lot of friends and family who loved him." Hermione said, still she had hoped to have this time alone with her children, hopefully, whomever it was would understand.

"Mum, I think it's Mr Malfoy." Rose said taking her Mother's other hand and Hermione felt herself stiffen a little, she thought about turning around and coming back but decided not to, she thought about what Harry said. It was true that they had the death of their spouses in common. Still what on earth would she say to Draco Malfoy? Enjoying the weather, are you? Nice day to visit our dead spouses, is it not? More roses, well they certainly must be costing you a lot of money?

Her children looked a little unsure. 'Come on, we are here to visit your father.'

Draco Malfoy, or not.

Note: Don't own. Please review.


	3. Northern Widows

**Chapter two**

 _Disclaimer: I do not own anything._

 _Northern Widows_

It was a gentle stroll from the large and perfectly manicured green shrubs of his home to the brown and dusty streets that led to Otter. St. Catchpole and onto the grey and still Northern Lane graveyard that was home to many wizarding families, old and new. Clutching the red roses that were horribly expensive but her favourite, he took his time getting there. It was a warm Sunday and he had already cast cooling charms over his thick robes, not wanting to bother with the thought required to wear muggle clothes. Astoria usually did that for him and his mother before that (or a more fashion-forward peer at school), to him they always seemed so complicated in their strange simplicity.

Astoria had been sick for awhile before she died, the illness taking her already willowy body and turning it into a twisted broken version before she was finally given the release. He'd wanted that release for her for a long time, but for even longer he wanted to deny it all. He hadn't felt like he'd gone all that long living a life that he had earned and then it was being snatched away. Still, he had his parents and he had his son for which he was eternally grateful.

He stood by Astoria's grave for his usual hour, leaving the bright red roses in the elaborate vase that elegantly jutted out from the side. He would never stop bringing them, she deserved something nice now that she was buried in the cold, wet earth.

Draco wasn't sure what took him there but he found himself standing in front of the grave of Ron Weasley. He admired the words on the headstone and was about to leave when he heard voices. At least she wasn't on her own this time, he had seen her many times in various states of dress, sobbing over the tombstone sounding like she was so hurt that she would never recover. He knew the feeling but it had rarely come to the surface, just those later days of sickness, when she had been in agony and he had wanted her to die.

He had _really_ wanted it.

"Hello, Mr Malfoy.' His head snapped up and he looked upon all three of them, Rose had a politely interested expression, Hugo did not, Hermione Granger or rather Weasley looked rightly confused.

"Are you lost?" Hugo asked bluntly.

"Hugo!" Hermione said. "Sorry, it's nice of you to visit him." She said kindly but they both knew that Ron would probably rather he didn't.

"I'm glad you think so," Draco replied.

"Dad was very important, he gets a lot of visitors," Rose said proudly.

"He was famous," Hugo added.

Hermione was smiling at her children. "He did install his sense of modesty in you both, come on Rose, Hugo can go first. Malfoy, would you mind, they like time alone?" She asked gesturing and he nodded and followed them.

Hugo waited for a moment before plonking himself in front of the tombstone and pulling out a bit of paper from his pocket and reading. They were all quiet for a while before Rose spoke.

"How is Scorpius, Mr Malfoy?" Rose asked politely.

"He's well thank you, enjoying his holidays," Draco replied.

"Where is he now?" Rose asked. "Doesn't he want to visit his mother?"

"Rose," Hermione said with a sigh.

"No it's alright, he's with his Grandparents, they rather like to hog him I'm afraid and my mother thinks…" Draco stopped not sure he should really share his mother's thoughts.

Hermione clued in easily. "I'm sure Scorpius visits his mother when he can, Rose."

Rose nodded and, mercifully, she and Hugo swapped places.

Draco tried to think of a way to communicate his thanks but wasn't sure how.

"Are you on holidays?" Hermione asked gently raking her hands through her son's hair.

"Yes until the end of the week," Draco replied. "Have you had nice holidays, Hugo?" He asked.

"We have been at the Burrow," Hugo said as if no one ever had a bad time there.

"Sounds wonderful," Draco replied and felt that he meant it. "I should leave you to it, then." He was only a few meters away when he heard Hermione catching up to him.

"Malfoy I…" He stopped and turned but she seemed unsure what to say but Draco felt he was the one who needed to express his thoughts.

"Granger, you should know that while Ron and I were never friends I am sorry that his children have lost their father. I'm sorry you lost your husband." Draco thought it may do down in history as one of the few nice things he'd ever said, at least to her.

Hermione nodded. "I'm sorry you lost your wife." She replied.

He smiled. "I got your flowers."

She shrugged. "It seemed the right thing to do."

Hermione hesitated for a moment, looking at him with her heavy brown eyes in a way he hadn't experienced before.

"What?" He asked a bit rudely.

"Oh nothing, you just seem different, in a way."

"Older and wiser, though not much wiser in my case."

"A little broken?" Hermione asked gently.

"Something like that," Draco replied feeling irritated by her reading him so well.

"Harry suggested I ask you to start a lonely hearts club or something," Hermione said with a shake of her head.

"I think my life is already sad enough, thanks." He replied. "Not to be rude, but see you later, Granger."

"See you Malfoy." She replied and raised her voice as he moved away. "You prat." She called and he couldn't help a flicker of a smile.

Hermione returned to her children and the three of them sat silently together in front of Ron's headstone before Rose broke the silence.

"Mum, do you really believe in heaven?" She asked in voice Hermione recognised in herself, there was little that would truly convince her. "And that Dad is there?"

"I really do." She replied with a smile.

"We don't have to go back to school Mum you know, we could stay here," Rose said, a concerned expression heavy on her face, Hugo, on the other hand, looked horrified by the idea.

"Oh honey, no, I want you to go back to Hogwarts, it's a special time, but thank you for the offer."

Rose nodded and after a few moments spoke again. "Mr Malfoy is nice."

Hugo made a face. "He gives me the creeps." Hermione laughed, it felt a nice change to do so in front of Ron and she hoped she could resolve in the future to bring him her laughter rather than her tears.

Please review, if you can. Hugs, witchcastle.


	4. Lonely Hearts Club

**Chapter three**

 _Lonely Hearts club_

 **Notes: Sorry it has been so long. Sorry, this chapter is short, the next is almost ready to go.**

Hermione stood with Ginny and Harry waving the children off as they headed to Hogwarts, trying to ignore the jealousy that struck her hotly in the gut. Her children were in their second and fourth year and Hermione desperately didn't want it to end for them.

Still, she smiled and waved and her children did the same though Rose looked a little concerned. She had repeated the offer to stay behind but Hermione had told her that she would be fine. Perhaps they both knew it was not entirely true.

Hermione thought she might head back to work, she had been putting it off for a while now but felt the time was right. Hermione was happy in her work and it consumed a lot of her mind and her time, maybe now that was a good thing.

"You ok?" Harry asked at dinner that night at the Burrow.

Hermione nodded.

"Fine, I think I'm ready for work."

Harry didn't hide his surprise.

"That's great, Hermione, really. I am so glad to hear you say that." He paused.

Hermione raised an eyebrow, "And?"

"Soon?" He asked hopefully and Hermione hid her smile.

"I hope so," Hermione replied and smiled at the rest of the table that had been listening with interest.

"I am sure there are a few things Harry could do, to make the process easier," Ginny said with a pointed look at her husband who shrugged.

"She knows what the job is like, it's a lot of things, easy isn't one of them," Harry said, in his way.

"Oh, Harry…" Mrs Weasley began.

'No he is right." Hermione said. "It is partly the reason it's been so long. I have to be ready."

"Of course you do," Arthur said with a gentle smile, he and Harry exchanged looks that Hermione didn't quite understand and Ginny's expression gave nothing away. Hermione hoped it was nothing, though knew better.

"More potatoes anyone?" Mrs Weasley asked.

"No thank you, but thank you for dinner."

"Oh your welcome, dear, and you know you can stay if you ever get lonely in that house." Mrs Weasley replied.

Hermione nodded. "I know, but I think that peace and quiet will be nice, at least for a little while."

The entire table looked just a tiny bit sceptical.

In her head, she barely registered that it was a warm, bright and beautiful night and that it was the kind of evening that should be enjoyed rather than how she was spending it, in tears hunched over her husband's tombstone. It was hard to remember exactly what had brought her here, a memory or feeling or something from the house that she had discovered, whatever it was it sent her immediately into a state and she left the house in a hurry and ran the distance to Northern Lane. She breathed heavily as she arrived and was unable to control the sobbing that followed and wished she could make it stop. Her therapist said that it was important for her to feel everything, the good and the bad and the ugly.

This was certainly an ugly moment.

She wasn't sure how long she sobbed and sputtered for but it didn't feel like long until she was a bit calmer and a hand went gently on her shoulder and squeezed. She felt herself stiffen, it wasn't Harry as the hand was too tentative and the fingers were too long.

"Sorry," Malfoy said. "I waited for Potter to come, but it's been over an hour."

Hermione wiped her eyes.

"He and Ginny are away, you didn't have to worry, I've been on my own before." Slowly she stood, kissed her hand and placed it gently on the top of the tomb.

Hermione took a few steps back and winced as something pierced her foot.

"No shoes again, huh?" He asked.

She sighed.

"So it would seem, you're visiting rather late." She turned to look, he was in a rather casual Muggle outfit that looked meticulously put together and made him look almost human.

Draco nodded.

"It's our Anniversary." He said with a heaviness that she could relate to.

Hermione swallowed heavily and without thinking she took and squeezed his hand.

"I'm sorry." She said and he nodded.

"What did you step on?" He asked.

Hermione looked down and lifted up her foot, it was bloody and dirty.

"I can't really tell, I think Hugo left his old chess set, I'm forever stepping on his toys."

"It's a boy thing, that's what Astoria always said," Malfoy said with a shrug.

"She was right," Hermione replied with a slight smile. "Well I think I'm alright, I should go and you can have peace."

"I appreciate the thought, but I've probably spent enough time here. I can walk you home, make sure you don't do anything else too embarrassing."

"Oh, that's kind of you." She said sarcastically but felt it actually was.

'I don't have to carry you do I?" He asked looking a little horrified at the idea.

"Laugh it up," Hermione replied and she hurried to follow him, her foot ached a little, knowing her luck she'd stepped on a sharp piece that wasn't afraid to fight back a little.

He offered an arm and she took it which felt a little strange. He was Draco Malfoy after all, someone she'd spent a long time trying to hate. In all honesty, she had a hard time hating anyone and school was so long ago and now mixed with so many other memories she'd almost forgotten all the ways he'd tortured her.

"Lonely Hearts Club, huh?" He asked after a few moments of silence.

"I think it involves a lot of Firewhisky, least I hope it does," Hermione replied. "But as I said, it was Harry's idea. I think he just wants me to have someone to talk to who's been there."

Draco swallowed.

"I'm not sure I'm in any position to give comfort or advice."

Hermione shrugged.

"How about just a drink then?" She hadn't meant for it to sound like a proposition but then it was out there and she felt herself thinking quickly to correct it.

"In honour of your Anniversary." She added with a slightly apologetic smile.

He raised an eyebrow at her and she knew, she hadn't exactly covered herself but that it was alright, for now.

"I can drink to that."

He didn't stay that long as he did not want to allow enough time for something significant to happen. What exactly he wasn't sure but what he did know was that he was a little intrigued by her. Draco felt she was not the girl he had known at school and found he was interested to find out _who_ she was. She still seemed very hung up on her husband which he could appreciate because he felt very hung up on his wife. They shared a bottle of red wine. They talked about their children at length and their parents, briefly. Draco spoke of his work and Hermione spoke of her intention to return to work and her confusion in her own procrastination to do so.

In truth, it wasn't a bad first meeting of the Lonely Hearts Club and by the end, she almost felt comfortable in his presence.

It was late and they both started to yawn, she offered him the couch and he declined insisting the walk would clear the wine from his head.

It certainly did that but as usual, there was still so much to think about.

He knew he was grateful for a distraction from the emptiness that he had been feeling but then also there was great confusion in everything else that he was feeling.


End file.
